Chapter 38
The Crow’s Whisper
“Following the tragic fire that claimed both her kin and her betrothed, Lady Jocelynn Valeria—the last of the Crows, is soon to travel to Eiden to wed Lord Draven Wrenavia, whose formidable reputation precedes him.”
Archived segment from The Castivian Chronicle
With Riven’s hand at the small of my back, we ascended the stairs.
At least fifty sets of eyes watched my every move.
Clutching my gown with both hands, I kept my chin up to ensure the tiara stayed on my head.
I avoided direct eye contact with any of the onlookers at all costs.
At least Riven’s protective presence ensured no one came too close.
At the top of the stairs, he held the door for me and—damn.
A crystal chandelier hung like the moon above the gilded lobby, where guests chatted among themselves and sipped from sparkling flutes of fizzing champagne. Servers in beige trousers and dress shirts actively buzzed around with loaded trays while handing out theater pamphlets.
Riven guided me forward. “We have balcony seats.”
With a subtle nod, I followed him through the growing crowd.
The whispers prickled down my neck.
“Twins, yes.”
“Another bastard.”
“Tragically sharp features. Xavian’s sister for sure.”
“A Blackheart, clearly. Look at her hands. You can always tell by the veins.”
“I’d heard she was Dark Natured, but a Blackheart… are you sure?”
Riven cleared his throat.
I tried to keep a straight face, but picked at the skin on my thumb. I thought I’d be used to people talking about me after years in the Waywards, but this was different. Before I was hated simply for being a Blackheart, but so were others.
Here I was the sole person being criticized and speculated over like a three-headed pigeon with a piglet hanging out its ass.
“Breathe,” Riven murmured, squeezing my shoulder.
In the private booth, there were two chairs, with a note in each seat.
The stage was magnificent from above, though it was almost humorously large, especially imagining Lady Jocelynn talking endlessly while standing on the long platform.
I picked up the note and took my seat, Riven doing the same beside me. It read:
Welcome to The Crow’s Whisper.
Beverages encouraged. Willingness to listen required.
Enjoy,
Lady Jocelynn Wrenavia
I grinned slyly and closed the note. “Well, you heard her. I’m going to need a drink.”
“Of course,” Riven said, back on his feet.
I stayed put while he fetched refreshments, as I had no desire to mingle.
I scanned the area below. White cushioned seats with silver armrests lined the theater. Many were occupied, and more guests trickled in every moment, laughing richly and adjusting their lavish jackets. High above was a bundle of soft white orbs illuminating the room.
There was enough space for a thousand people, maybe more. How long would it take to get to the exit if something catastrophic were to happen? During the Sapphire attack in the Waywards, it had taken me so long to get to Luna and… Riven. Together.
I was going to be sick. I closed my eyes and shook my head, a failed attempt to erase the memory.
The orb lights flickered twice, signaling for everyone to find their seats. From the far side of the stage, a harp played a pure solo before rumbling drums and a group of melancholic strings joined in. The song filled the theater, pulsing through the air.
Golden light danced around the stage, revealing glimpses of musicians in the shadows, dressed in black and vigorously working their arms. The drums intensified, the lights growing brighter and the music stronger until complete darkness blanketed the theater in one beat, bringing with it a jarring silence.
One second of silence, two, three—
Bum, dum, dum, bum, bum, bum!
Blue, violet, and white lights flooded the center of the stage. “The oneeeee and onlyyyyy… Lady Jocelynn Valeria Wrenavia!”
Jocelynn exuded extravagance. Her hat made the other ones she’d worn look mundane.
Colorful feathers, glittering jewels, and beaded pearls were attached to the side of the headpiece.
Her plum and black gown hugged her arms and concealed her chest, while the train was almost the length of a wedding aisle.
Lady Jocelynn held her arms out and flashed a smile to the crowd. “Welcome to The Crow’s Whisper! A show unlike any other in Castivian!”
Riven returned, quietly handing me a clear, sparkling cocktail before sitting back in his seat.
“Sorry for the wait,” he whispered.
I thanked him, but was captivated by the stage. I didn’t want to miss a thing, even for Riven.
The music softened into a haunting melody. The lights dimmed to a low, violet glow, shining only on Lady Jocelynn.
She looked over the crowd with daunting eyes. Then, she sang.
Crows alike, crows I like,
Secrets they come and they tell me,
What they know, it’s what I hear,
You’d never know what they tell me,
Smiles they fade, debts unpaid,
Secrets that grow and destroy thee.
What I know, you will know,
Open your eyes and you’ll see me.
Open your mind to the crows I like,
Truths that are found beyond a page.
Listen close, you never know
What you’ll hear from the crows on stage.
What you will scream, when you feel my rage.
What you might know, when the stage lights fade.
Caring for secrets, like they care for me.
Whispering Crows are the air I breathe.
Open your heart, sit in your seats.
The crows have something that belong to thee.
Whispers are gifts, unworthy treats.
The crows know exactly where to be
Secrets they linger—wait to be told.
I love to watch it all unfold.
Secrets they give, and then they take
Listen tonight or you’ve made a mistake
Her song mesmerized everyone in the room, myself included. As it came to a delicate end, a black chair appeared behind her, as if she’d been shadowing it the entire time.
As the stage lights once again grew bright enough to light the entire stage, Lady Jocelynn took a seat.
First, she discussed gossip from prestigious parties around Eiden and a new facial enhancement spa opening down the street.
Even though the topics did not interest me, it was hard not to be drawn in.
It wasn’t what she talked about that kept the crowd entranced, so much as the way she presented it all.
She was animated, never leaving out a single juicy detail.
She brought a guest onto the stage, a housemaid from a lord’s home that had been allegedly robbed. The maid was young, barely twenty, if that.
“Alaya, thank you so much for coming all this way. We are so glad to have you,” Lady Jocelynn purred, gesturing towards another chair that had just been carried onto the stage.
Alaya smiled politely, but went a little pale at the sight of the audience. She wore a dark blue gown, simple with long sleeves. Her rusty burgundy hair was tied into a low bun, face clean of any cosmetics—presentably lowborn.
The crowd murmured, but Lady Jocelynn swiftly demanded their attention with sharp eyes.
“To my understanding, you work in Lord Greer Bravestone’s home? Employed to complete housework?” Lady Jocelynn leaned in her chair, an elbow propped on the arm.
Alaya sat with her hands in her lap, slouching a little and fidgeting with her dress.
“Uh… yes. I did, but I don’t think I’ll be going back.”
“Oh? And how long did you work for the Bravestone family?”
Lady Jocelynn was direct with her line of questioning, yet inviting. I could feel even from the balcony the attention she was giving to Alaya. The girl was likely not used to that.
I sipped on my refreshment, noting it was nearly empty.
Riven’s tattooed hand was on the arm of my chair, daring anyone to come near me. My core simmered, heat pooling between my legs as his eyes trailed from my face down to my neck and chest, before he slyly returned his attention to the stage.
“They hired me when I was seventeen,” Alaya said.
“And you are now?”
“Twenty summers.”
“So you were employed to clean the Bravestone manor for the past three years?”
Alaya nodded, her shoulders curling uncomfortably and eye contact faltering. “Yes.”
Lady Jocelynn slid a cup of tea to her, smiling. Alaya smiled awkwardly back, accepting the offering.
“Three years is enough time to know the people you’re living with, I would think. To our guests in the audience, do you agree?”
Many nods and yeses erupted from the crowd.
“I thought so. Now, Alaya, a week ago, there was a robbery in Lord Bravestone’s home, yes?”
Many of the nobles appeared troubled at the news.
“No,” Alaya denied. “There was no robbery.”
The crowd gasped.
Jocelynn’s lips curled up just a smidge. “It was reported that several jewels went missing. Expensive ones. Charged with the crime was Nora Flennett. She tended to the grounds of the property, yes?”
Alaya’s face went red, and she shook her head adamantly.
“No—well, yes, Nora was a groundskeeper. No, she did not steal the jewels. No one stole any jewels.”
There were more murmurs amongst the crowd. I leaned forward curiously while Riven narrowed his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure what might be exposed next.
Lady Jocelynn adjusted her posture. “Then what really happened?”
Alaya no longer appeared nervous. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists, knuckles blanching. “Lord Greer claimed jewels were taken seven nights ago. He blamed it on Nora Flennett, but I know that cannot be true.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Because Nora was with me that night.”
My eyes widened. How scandalous, the housemaid and the groundskeeper. Classic.
“In your chambers?”
Alaya laughed. “No. We were in Lord Hadyn’s chambers.”
The crowd got eerily quiet, and the smug look on Lady Jocelynn’s face suggested we were on the edge of this teacup.
“Lord Hadyn’s chambers, as in, Lord Greer’s eldest son’s chambers?”
“Yes.”
“The three of you?”
I was beginning to question what the fuck was in the tea she gave Alaya because the young woman confidently nodded.
The crowd boomed with chatter, but after another sharp look from Lady Jocelynn and a finger to her mouth, they quieted.
“Why would Lord Greer blame Nora Flynnet for stealing jewels from him that night if she was having a threesome with his son and the housemaid at the time of the robbery?”
Alaya contemplated the question, seemingly put off by the phrasing, but determined to say her truth.
“Because Lord Greer caught the three of us in bed the next morning, and Nora’s a Stonesender!
” she cried out, the words tumbling out of her mouth like rice spilling from a sack.
“And, and, and… Lord Greer swore to Fate he’d have her sitting in a cell for the rest of her life for tainting his son with her Dark Nature! ”
The room stilled. Shock spread across the many faces seated in the theater.
“Hm,” Lady Jocelynn began. “You are distraught over this.”
A tear rolled down Alaya’s face. “Of course I am! I love Nora. All three of us love each other deeply. Now Nora is in a cell because she’s Dark Natured and dared to love someone different than her.”
My jaw was tense. Nora’s story hit harder than I’d expected it to. It was despicable to think about someone Dark Natured being imprisoned in Castivian.
Things were supposed to be different here. Better than Drakington.
Jocelynn frowned. “That’s terrible. I presume Lord Greer didn’t fire you? ”
Alaya shook her head. “I’m a Lyonheart. He has no issues with Light Nature, not that it matters. I’m not going back. I’d rather work in the brothels or beg on the streets before I work for him ever again. I will seek Hadyn elsewhere.”
It was a respectable decision. Surely we could hire her, although Xavian did not particularly love unnecessary people in his house.
“Thank you, Alaya, for coming all this way to share your story. I’ll be speaking with King Xavian Steele about releasing Nora. Both of you can find work at my residence. You may go.”
Tears streamed down Alaya’s face as she smiled, quickly thanking Lady Jocelynn before scurrying off the stage.
I hadn’t expected Lady Jocelynn to offer her a job, and I’m sure Alaya hadn’t expected it either.
Lady Jocelynn stood back up, lights concentrating on her.
“We will have a brief intermission before the final talk of the evening. Prepare yourselves, as tonight we will discuss the recent widow Queen Delaina of Drakington already finding intimacy with a new boy toy, as well as a first-hand account of the infamous Waywards recorded from our very own Princess Elorengail Steele of Castivian.”
The crowd oohed and aahed.
Lady Jocelynn disappeared, and the lights in the theater brightened. Everyone began getting up to refill refreshments, chat, stretch their legs, and relieve themselves.
“Do you want another drink?” Riven offered.
“If you don't mind.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He took the empty glass and left me free to people watch in solitude. I scanned the room, grinning at different interactions below. I twisted to the side to crack my back, enjoying the relief for only a moment before I caught a glimpse of white hair.
Across the room and a level higher was Prince Payn in a balcony seat.
I was going insane. It had to be just another gentleman with similar neatly groomed hair, enjoying a drink.
Then he turned, our eyes meeting from across the theater.
My heart might as well have dropped through my ass.
Prince Payn was in the capital of Castivian.
His drink was no champagne. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, a single drop falling to the floor. He didn’t break eye contact with me as he wiped the trail away.
Then, he vanished.